Even If I Die Alone
by Irish-Lass08
Summary: This is simply the story of two lovers, separated by fate.
1. Prologue

_**Disclaimer**: Don't own Newsies, blahdy blahdy blah._

Prologue

This is simply the story of two lovers, separated by fate.

This is the story of Spot Conlon and Risa Winter. Together for a short time, the two became famous as the King and Queen of Brooklyn. But all was not right in the kingdom. For there was a man, a man unhappy with their love, a man who loved the Queen as much as the King. A man who would do anything to get her.

This is the story of a man gone crazy with love, crazy with passion, crazy with the lies he told himself. This man tore the kingdom apart, searching for the King and Queen. When he found them, he tore them apart just as well. He took the Queen for his own bride, he took her to have his children, to love him as she had loved the King. He tore apart the fairytale, he took away their happily ever after.

But this man made one mistake. He did not dispose of the King as he should have. He let him live, but he held onto the King's secret as a key. This man did not realize that keys can be stolen, and locks can be broken into. This man did not realize that karma has a way of catching up to you. This man did not realize that in the end, true love conquers all.

This is simply the story of two lovers, separated by fate.

_**A/N:** Alright, I'm sorry to say that there won't be any more updates for a bit. I put this on here to see how people respond to it and such, so please reveiw! I had up to chapter seven, but then I went crazy and changed everything around, and now I'm rewriting from Chapter One and so forth, so it'll be a while. Please review though! Criticism is very much wanted, and needed!_


	2. Chapter One: Spit Sisters

Even If I Die Alone

_Chapter One: Spit Sisters_

How many true pairs of best friends do you know? I mean, the real kind of best friends, the girls who know each other so well, inside and out, that they can almost finish the other's sentence. It's a scientific fact that twins can create their own language between each other, even before they're capable of coherent speech. When two girls are together as long as twins are, and are raised the same way that twins are, they can form that same sort of language. Risa and Clara were no exception. Before they could make full words other than 'ma', 'da', and 'mine', they would babble and giggle together for hours, the same way old ladies in a retirement home do. They were born each into the same month of 1882, two days apart. Their mothers were best friends and neighbors, and they passed that friendship on to the girls. Risa was in the room the day Clara was born, and from then on, never went a day without seeing her. Both poor girls, there was never a chance to go on vacation, and when they were sick, they simply visited the other. People in their apartment building would be surprised to see one alone. One of their neighbors once started a rumor that Risa was dead because she saw Clara walking down the hall alone.

It's hard to keep a friendship throughout your entire life, especially with someone who knows you so well. If you know someone the very best, you learn all their faults, along with all the remarkable things about them. But Clara and Risa stuck together, and even if they had a fight, they would make up a day later.

When they were just toddlers, they ran along the streets of Brooklyn as if it was the hall between their apartments. It wasn't dangerous to them, it was just a big street with lots of people on it. They would always wave hello to the big boys selling newspapers on the corners, the ones with the easy laughter and the happy grins. Those boys were their heroes, the boys who could live without their parents and family, just live by themselves. The girls would follow the boys around like trained puppies, hoping that maybe one of them would say hi to them, even a nod would be enough. There was one boy in particular who caught the girl's eyes. He was tall and lanky, with a perfect smile and glowing emerald eyes. Both girls had a crush on him, they would sit around for hours and plan their weddings.

His name was Simon Timmings, and he was to become one of the greatest leaders Brooklyn had ever seen, other than Spot Conlon, of course. He was four years older than the girls, but that didn't stop them from following him all over the city. He didn't mind, of course, he even let them sell some of his papers. They were so cute that almost anyone would by from them. And it wasn't just that… They had a way of connecting with their customers, even at the young age of four.

When they were five, they started going to the distribution office early every morning and buying their own papers, then selling them for the rest of the day. When they had both sold every last paper, they would go to a bench and put their money in the middle, then dole it out evenly between the two. This ritual never left them, every day until the day they stopped selling newspapers, they would meet on the same bench and split the money exactly down the middle, neither caring if they had gotten way more money that day, because they knew that any other day, the other might have gotten the majority.

When Risa was six, her dad lost his job. Her parents started counting on Risa for her money, and Risa reluctantly gave it to them. Clara started saving only enough money to get a stack of papers the next morning, and gave the rest of her earnings to Risa. Eventually, Risa's dad found a job, in Connecticut. They had to move two days after he was given the job. Two days for Risa to say goodbye to the life she had known and loved for so long.

The night before they left, Risa sat in her room, holding Clara's hand and crying. The two small children were quiet, listening to Risa's parents argue through the thin walls of the apartment. Her mother was crying, saying she didn't want to leave Clara's mother, she loved her almost as much as she loved her own family. They argued far into the night, Clara and Risa never moving, afraid that if they made too much noise, they would stop their fighting and Risa's mom wouldn't win. But Risa's mom didn't win. Risa heard her mother reluctantly sigh, tears falling. "I don't want to leave my life," she had said resolutely, giving up. Risa, on the other hand, did not give up so easily. She said a fake goodbye to Clara that night, acting as though she was leaving her, but instead she left her parents. She walked into the dark night, just a little girl climbing down a fire escape at four in the morning, headed towards a house filled with smelly boys and dirty clothes.

She snuck quietly up the stairs of the Newsboys Lodging House, looking around as she did. The floor was filthy, dirt and mud everywhere, and the walls had large chunks missing. She walked into the first door she saw, finding that it was filled with sleeping boys. There were bunk beds and cots everywhere, crowding the place, and at the end of every bunk or cot, there was a small trunk, with clothes shoved inside carelessly. Risa could see that there was no room for her, but she wasn't about to give up. She looked at the small faces, trying to find a certain one by the moonlight. Then, she saw the handsome face of Simon, his arm slung carelessly across his forehead. She tiptoed over to him, avoiding all the beds and trunks on the way. She knelt down by his bed and gently shook him. He opened his eyes slowly, looking over at the girl kneeling next to him.

"Risa?" he muttered, sitting up. "What are you doing here."

"I need a place to live," she said strongly, ready to face whatever challenge he shoved forth.

Simon looked her up and down, just a little girl, but he knew what she could do selling those papers, and he knew she was just as strong, maybe stronger, than any boy here. So he did something that caused a change in the way the Brooklyn Newsies worked. He let a girl join their ranks. He let her sleep in their room, work with them, and live the same way as them.

Risa slept in Simon's bed that night, he slept on the ground. The next morning, when Clara realized what had happened in the night, she snuck out too, and became the second girl in the Brooklyn Newsboys history.

Risa and Clara never heard from their parents again. They didn't care enough to search for them, and the girls didn't care enough to tell them where they were. One day, Clara watched her parents leave her house, headed down the road the same direction Risa's parents had left. Clara smiled a sad smile, watching her parents do exactly what she had done. They gave up their prior life to be with those they loved. Maybe that's what parents are for, someone to give you life, then abandon you so you can learn to grow on your own. As people grow, they learn that can't always depend on others, but to learn that at the young age of six is a sad thing, a sad thing indeed. Growing up isn't easy, and it shouldn't have to happen before you can read.

The girls fit in well at the lodging house. The boys were slobs, the girls soon discovered, but instead of giving up and letting the world become their trash can, the girls started to clean up after them, not wanting to live in their own filth. The girls also started to cook for them, as they were the only two capable of making anything edible in the small kitchen next to the bedroom. The girls didn't mind that they had taken on the stereotypical life of a woman, they actually enjoyed that the boys respected them for what they did, they would pick their own clothes of the floor, afraid that the girls would yell at them if they found them there. They would even bring dirty dishes to the sink for the girls, never going as far as washing them, but it was still something.

At the tender age of 12, despite the rumors of who started the spit shake, Risa and Clara began a new craze. It had actually started when they were 4 and they had decided that if they swapped spit they would become Spit Sisters. One boy caught them doing it in the year 1894, and so began a frenzy. Spit went flying everywhere in the beginning, not many people actually spitting in their palm, not wanting to feel the sticky saliva between their fingers. At first people spat onto the ground, mixing their spit in one spot, but that took too much time, and you needed good aim, which so few are born with. Eventually, people got over their disgust and spit in their hands. Don't listen to the rumors, Spot Conlon didn't start it, Jack Kelley didn't start it, and don't let anyone tell you Racetrack started it, he made that rumor up himself.

Their was another boy who caught the girls' eyes at a young age. His name was Scalp, a name that was given to him because of an unfortunate case of dandruff he had, that always had him scratching at his scalp. Scalp idolized Simon more than the girls did, he wanted to be exactly like Simon, and he tried, hard, to complete that goal. But, while Simon was nice to the girls, he was cruel to Scalp. He made fun of the poor boy when he tried to imitate him, and he would laugh at him behind his back with the other boys. The girls lost a lot of respect for Simon when he acted like that, and they gave him the nickname Harsh, which stuck with him until the day he died.

Scalp was a quiet boy, very shy, and he was rather chubby in the beginning. He blushed very easily, and didn't talk to anyone but the girls. When people started being mean to him about Harsh, he ignored it, but the girls knew it was bothering him. He would talk less and less, and he began to retreat into a shell. No matter what Risa or Clara did, he just grew more and more frustrated at the world. When he was only seven, he left the Brooklyn Newsies and joined the Queens Newsies. The girls didn't speak to him at all afterwards, completely unsure of how he would react to a letter or visit from them. Brooklyn quickly forgot about that shy boy, and eventually Clara and Risa even let it go too. They went back to treating Harsh like royalty. The only difference Scalp had made was Simon's nickname, because it didn't leave along with the memory of that chubby little kid.

A man they called Potsy was the leader of the Brooklyn Newsies at the time when the girls joined them. But one night, Potsy didn't come back to the lodging house, and was never seen again. Harsh immediately took up the position, and became leader at only twelve.

Spot Conlon joined the Newsies in 1880, at the young age of 8. Everyone automatically liked him, he had a strong sense of leadership and was tough, as tough as many of the older boys and even as tough as Risa and Clara. Everyone knew Spot Conlon was destined for great things, knew that they would one day speak his name with pride. They would proudly stand up and say "I knew Spot Conlon back in the day, before this and that happened to him." But that day was not to come for a while, fate would almost cause it to never come.

Clara grew quite fond of Spot from the beginning, too fond for her own good. She followed that boy like a puppy with wide eyes, begging him to turn around and love her. This made Risa sick, she couldn't even look at Spot without imagining her best friend trailing behind him. She liked Spot, too, genuinely, but she didn't realize that while she liked him as a friend, he liked her as much, much more.

If you had told anyone that Risa and Spot would become reigning King and Queen, they would have considered you a nut case. Everyone assumed Spot would return Clara's crush, and the two would marry and live happily ever after. But such did not happen as expected. Clara grew out of her crush, a fact that astonished many. She actually became angry with him quite often, had to be calmed down by Risa hissing soothing things into her ear. That's how it always was. Clara showed her emotions, wore them on her sleeve, but Risa hid things, never wanted people to take her emotions as a weakness. That, in itself, was her biggest weakness.

Before Spot was with Risa, he had a reputation, one that was only half true. It was true he was no longer a virgin, it was true he had become a bit of a lady's man, but it was not true that he had no heart, it simply belonged to someone else. Someone who wouldn't share the love, so he searched for it in other places.

Many times, you expect someone to become the way Spot was because of his father. It's a classic story, his father doesn't give him love, he searches for it in other women along the way, he becomes a hardened shell of a man, getting loved but never loving in return. But, alas, this was not true. Spot's father never hit him, Spot never went without food, his father was a good man. He was a butcher in Brooklyn for many years, and loved Spot as much as a man who sliced animals for a living could love someone. His only fault was that he was not careful, not careful at all. Spot was only 6 when his mom got the telegram, telling her that her husband had been in a "butcher's accident." In other words, the knife had slipped out of his hand and stabbed him in the stomach, causing severe internal and external bleeding.

But how is it that a man who grew up in a butcher's shop, can suddenly "drop" the knife and stab himself in the stomach so roughly. How must he have been cutting the meat to do so? It seemed another hand must have been involved in this murder…

After that, Spot's mother abandoned him. She left him with the newsies when he was 8, and, after 2 years of being the man of the house, he had grown his hard outer shell, his leadership abilities, his capability of handling sticky situations. Handling a wreck of a woman for 2 years wasn't easy. He had to cook for her, clean for her, pay the bills somehow, which often involved stealing, and at the same time find time to grow as a child. He seemed to have missed the growing as a child part, he had become a man at the young age of 6.

His heart belonged to Risa from the start. Of course, no one knew this, not even Ashes, Spot's best friend. Ashes had always thought that Spot had just enjoyed the chase, only wanted Risa because she didn't want him. No one knew this but Clara, that is. Spot had accidentally told Clara one evening. They were 14, sitting on the roof, legs swinging over the side, and he had blurted it out when Clara asked him why they weren't together. "Because I'm in love with Risa." It wasn't "Because I have a crush on Risa," "Because I want up Risa's skirt," no, it was _love_. True love. That's when Clara began to get angry at him, angry at him for acting like something he wasn't, pretending he didn't love Risa when she knew he did. And yet Risa could always calm Clara down in time. Before she said something she'd regret. Clara moved on from Spot easily, the two staying friends, despite her sudden bouts of anger.

Before Spot went out with a girl, no matter how beautiful or sweet or wonderful the girl was, he would always tell her that he wasn't going to get involved. And yet he always knew how to choose the one's that didn't care, the ones that were too drunk or high or horny, or just wanted to be able to say that they were once held by Spot Conlon. Who knows why so many girls slept with Spot so willingly, maybe we never will, but they did, and Spot never turned them down.

Risa didn't know of this, Risa was far too hidden in herself. She held her emotions in, taking them out only in a small black diary she carried everywhere, a diary so small it would fit into her trouser pocket. This diary one day would make the not yet leader of Brooklyn, the almighty Spot Conlon, curl into a ball and cry as he had never cried before. But that wouldn't be until much later, until their story had progressed.

Spot and Risa grew close during their teen years. Risa learned that Spot wasn't just a cocky boy, that he had deep troubles within, and she tried to help him as much as she could, she didn't get annoyed when he hid behind his attitude. When Clara would yell, Risa would just try to make her best friend stop, because she knew Clara didn't understand that Spot was dealing with a lot. Risa always thought Spot thought of her as a best friend as she did to him, but she was wrong, and as she grew, she realized that she didn't think of Spot as just a best friend either.

Spot hid his love as much as Risa hid her emotions. No one thought they would end up together at this rate. And, before Spot could confess that love to her, he had other things to deal with. Like ruling his kingdom, the great kingdom of Brooklyn, handed down to him that year by the previous fearless ruler. And when Spot was 16, a new problem was to arise. One he chose not to deal with, one that almost cost him his life.

_**A/N:** Check it out, I'm up way earlier than I expected. And I think we all owe it to the gorgeous Banoonie Po, my best friend in the world. Without all that nagging, this never would be. Now that you're entraptured by my story, I hope, I suppose I should tell you some things about the wonder that is my life. One, I am a girl of many things, one of those things involving wearing earrings on my finger as rings, another involving being scared out of my mind by Ju-On, one of the many Japanese movies my brother loves to show me. Two, I just saw the movie Garden State, and it is possibly the most amazing movie ever created. See, I know what you're all thinking. You're going: Oh my, she likes it better than Newsies. She should be stoned to death. Well suck it, it was amazing. There's no beating it, I'm afraid. Three, I'm 14, a freshman, shiver, and I hope my young age does not show in my writing. Four, my name is Sara, but don't assume that because of that I'm a snob. It is a really snob-like name, I must say. But my name shows I'm free spirited because it has no h at the end, and Sarah's are more likely to be pompous bitches who eat babies. Five, I am currently looking at my damn sexy school picture (I totally had straight hair in it... wacko), my sister's smocking hot senior picture (she's laying in what looks a bit like that pink insilation stuff they put in house walls), a picture of Dan, my brother, in a suit holding a gun to the camera, and a senior picture of my good freind Brennan, in which he is holding a large stuffed gingerbread man. I think that describes quite a bit of my life. If anyone who is reading this is a fan of good Japanese cinema, and by good I mean no anime, or of Garden State, the soundtrack of Garden State, or bands on the soundtrack of Garden State, contact me. You seem like the type of person I like to associate myself with. Email me: or contact me via AIM: StarburstQueen34._

What follows is a long list of Thanks:

** Katherine**- Was this soon enough? Now write more in your reviews, you dolt, and please continue to review!  
**  
Bitemytoesmrmoe**- Thanks, I quite liked that line! By the way, your name is seriously the most amazing I've ever heard. You must be wonderful in bed.  
**  
BlackWiltedRose**- Why thank you, thank you very much. I'm glad I caught your interest, now enough about me... let's talk about you.

** Dreamer**- What's with the signing your name in all caps? Man, you sound cool, I gotta say. Be my friend?  
**  
sYaOrAnRoXmiSoX**- I'm not even gonna ask about your name... You seem to like those crazy little text tricks. Such as: Oo and . OH I TOTALLY GET IT! THEY'RE FACES! My God, you're a genius. Marry me?

** Elyse**- Maybe that man is infact solient green, therefore the people. See, now that didn't make sense unless you've seen or read Solient Green. Have you seen or read Solient Green?

_**Love97**- Glad you reviewed, as I love your story to death. Honestly, to death. I tried to kill it. Didn't work. I called it a fairytail, by the way, because I was reading the book Snow as I was working on that, and Snow is like the rewriten fairytail of Snow White. It's a great book, I suggest you read it immediately. _

_**Midnight Flare**- Now see, your review... that just made me pretty damn happy. You are an amazing creature, yes, creature, and I hope you review again and again and again. By the way, I think I should hook you up with my friend Kevin, he can sit for hours in front of my fireplace. It's semi-creepy. Only problem is he's going out with one of my best friends... that might get in the way..._

_**THANK YOU EVERYONE WHO REVIEWED! I LOVE YOU TO DEATH!** Please review, new and old alike. I want criticism though, otherwise how am I going to improve? And if you just want to talk, you can email me, I quite like talking, if you can't tell. Keep up with me, bitches!_

_I love you all to death,   
-Sara/Irish_


	3. Chapter Two: Thy Kingdom Come

---Chapter Two: Thy Kingdom Come ---

"Risa, get your ass out of bed!" Clara shouted at her best friend, beating her with a pillow. "We have to go work, idiot."

"Stop it you wench," Risa said groggily, sitting up in bed and looking at the bright room around her. There were a few other girls sleeping in the women's room, but not many. It was tough being a girl in a place like Brooklyn, most girls sold in Manhattan. Risa and Clara were in charge of the girls, so, like every morning, they had to wake them up, and then they had to wake up the boys, a task that always proved to be much more difficult. Although Risa was usually considered the more responsible one, and she was the one who went to bed at a reasonable hour, she never woke up before Clara. There was an order. Clara woke Risa, the two got dressed, they went to the boys bunk, they would scream and throw pillows and use jugs of water as needed, and then they would wake the young boys in a gentler way, shaking them lightly and telling them to 'get dressed cause we get to go sell papes now', and these boys would be so excited that they would jump out of bed, happy to get to 'play with the big kids'. That was always Risa's favorite part of the day, until the older boys would wake up and start jostling the younger ones, forcing them to get out of their way and bring them breakfast and such. Risa hated that attitude, the 'I'm older therefore superior' attitude.

The half-asleep girl pulled herself out of bed, and walked to her hook, pulling on a pair of baggy black trousers, a loose white shirt unbuttoned with a black wife beater below it, and bright red suspenders. She pulled her curly red hair back into a messy ponytail, shoved a pencil behind the string she had tied it with, and pulled a black cabby hat on. She looked into the mirror, happy with her appearance, and pulled her necklace out from behind her shirt. She kissed the silver key hanging from the white string which she always kept close to her heart. Then she tucked it between the folds of her white shirts and walked away from the mirror.

She walked out into the hall where Clara was leaning against the wall outside the girl's room, the stub of a cigarette hanging out of the corner of her mouth. "About time…" she muttered, stomping out the cigarette beneath her boots. The two walked down the hall and into the boys room, where they woke the older ones up loudly and carelessly, then tiptoed into the young boys room and woke them up quietly, letting them enjoy the peace that would only last a few minutes. Then the girls wandered down the stairs and onto the street, kicking pebbles ahead of them and talking animatedly. They walked to the distribution office only to find that the gates were still closed, so they sat down on the ground by the gate, waiting for the others to arrive.

Risa glanced over at her best friend, who looked as beautiful as ever. Her blond hair was long and straight, blowing around her in the wind. She wore men's clothes, but her big blue eyes, long eyelashes, and rosy cheeks ruined all of her chances of looking like a man. Not that Risa could do any better. Her eyes were equally big, but brown, and her eyelashes were just as long, and darker. She didn't have rosy cheeks, but she had cute freckles situated across the bridge of her nose.

A tall red head walked past the girls and waved. "Hi Medda!" the girls chorused. Medda smiled and continued walking, then slowed down and returned.

"I've been meaning to talk to you two…" Medda began, and the girl's faces erupted into smiles. They had been expecting her to talk to them for a while. Medda ran Irving Hall in Manhattan, she was the lead singer and dancer, and she handled the books in the place. The girl's friend, Paris, sang and danced there as one of the many backup singers for Medda, and she had mentioned to Medda that Clara and Risa were both fifteen, about the age most girls start. Almost every female newsy dreams of being a dancer at Medda's.

"Do you two have any previous dancing or singing experience?" Medda asked, sitting down on the dirt with Risa and Clara. That's what everyone loved about Medda, that she never acted as though she was any better than anyone else, she would sit on dirt in her finest clothes if she thought it'd make you feel comfortable.

"Well…" Risa started. Clara and her had been expecting this question, and had been planning for quite some time. "We can both carry a tune pretty well, and our mothers taught us to dance from the time we could walk until we were six…" Risa didn't have to say 'when we left home', everyone knew their story.

"Good, good…" Medda said, pondering something. "You two are both growing into very beautiful young women, and I could sure use some more dancers at Irving Hall…"

Risa and Clara said, in unison, "We'd love to!" before Medda even had a chance to officially ask them.

"Great… come to my show tonight and meet with me afterwards, then we can work out details." Medda winked at the girls and walked away.

"It's about time!" Clara said when Medda was gone. "I thought she was never going to ask!"

"I know, and I sure can use some extra cash. Paris says they pay great." Risa couldn't stop smiling, she felt like a dream of hers had just come true.

The two sat in a comfortable silence, enjoying the few minutes of silence they ever had. It's hard living with so many boys, and they knew that the men would soon be arriving. Sure enough, a gang of them sauntered over. It was Spot, Ashes, Wiz, Sulk, and Uncles. Spot and Ashes came and sat down next to the girls, Spot handing Risa a cigarette and Ashes handing her a light. Wiz and Uncles stood away from them, soon joined by more men, and Sulk went into a corner, smoking his cigarette and watching everyone laughing and having a good time, sulking as ever. Ashes turned to Clara and the two began to talk quietly.

"Those two have been flirting like this for weeks," Risa whispered to Spot. "When are they going to just get together!"

"Sometimes the heart needs time." Spot said in an even tone, ignoring the weird look Risa gave him.

"Since when are you a master of the heart?"

"I just meant-" but whatever Spot had meant was not clear, because at that moment a gang of the young boys ran up, immediately jumping all over Risa and Clara. Spits and Spooks, the inseparable five year olds, both landed on Risa's lap, and Gorge, the pudgy four year old, waddled over to Clara and hopped in her lap, making her wince than start to laugh.

"Hey boys!" Risa said cheerfully to the two, who began to play tug aware with her arms. "Now, now, there's enough of me for everybody!"

"Even me?" Spot whispered into her ear before standing up and walking towards the small group of men containing Wiz and Uncles. She watched him leave, confused. Sometimes, that Spot Conlon just made no sense. Risa stood up and began to walk towards where Clara and Gorge had wandered, but was distracted by the sight of Harsh walking over to the small group of newsies, his gold cane swinging wildly from his belt loop.

"Where's everyone else?" he asked lightly, his powerfully quiet voice making Spits and Spooks jump. Risa picked up Spits and grasped Spooks' hand, bringing them over to the pack.

"Not here yet, Harsh." Spot spoke up. "They'll be coming soon."

"They better… I have an announcement to make." Harsh said. He spoke quietly, but everyone's attention was automatically drawn to him. He was tall and lanky, the kind of guy you feel like will snap in half at any second. He had a deep scar across his neck, where someone had tried to strangle him with a rope and not succeeded. The scar was gruesome, but all eyes seemed to automatically be drawn to it. His hair was wild, always sticking up at strange places, but he had the most beautiful green eyes. One glance into them and you could be lost instantly. When he was mad, though, they turned almost blacker than night, terrifying. Despite his name and demeanor, he was actually a kind man, the kind who would play with you at night, and yet be wide awake each morning.

"Conlon," he said suddenly, beckoning Spot forward. "I need to talk to you about something."

Spot looked at Risa with his eyebrow raised, chuckling inwardly at the sight of Spits pulling the pencil out of her hair and handing it to Spooks silently, who handed it to Gorge, who handed it to Clara, who tucked it into her pocket, all without Risa noticing. She was too busy watching Spot worriedly, afraid of what Harsh was going to say to him, wanting to listen but knowing that neither boy would like that. Instead, she turned to the little boys and continued playing, asking them about their mysterious grins.

Slowly, all the newsies showed up and made small talk, watching Spot and Harsh talk, both of which had intently furrowed brows. No one could tell if they were having an argument or not, but they all knew it was something important, and not to interrupt. Finally, Harsh and Spot approached the group of newsies, Spot flashing a grin at Risa. She let out a breath of air, everything was okay, nothing to worry about. Risa couldn't deny it, she didn't get so worked up about anyone else who simply had a conversation with an old friend.

"I have an announcement to make, which I will do directly after Clara returns the pencil to Risa." Harsh said, his eyes sparkling with silent amusement. Clara blushed and Risa reached at her hair, confused, laughing when Clara handing her the small brown pencil. "As I was saying… As you all know, I'm getting to be rather old, and instead of growing to an old man here, I've decided to pass on the leadership. Please welcome the new leader of Brooklyn, Spot Conlon!"

Everyone clapped and cheered, shocked. No one had expecting that so soon. They figured that Spot would at least be seventeen by the time he got to be leader. But fifteen? That was unanticipated…

Risa went up to congratulate Spot, and he, much to her shock and dismay, picked her up and swung her around, giddy with the news. Everyone laughed except Clara, who was just wishing he'd tell her that he loved her already. As he put Risa down, he whispered into her ear "Meet me on the roof tonight at midnight." She gave him a weird look as she moved through the crowd, over to Clara.

"That was strange…" she whispered to her best friend, watching the new leader of their borough shake hands with all his friends and coworkers.

"What?" Clara asked, but before Risa could tell her what happened, Gorge had grabbed the petite blonde's hand and pulled her off to a bench a little ways away.

Ashes came over towards Risa. "What was strange?" he asked. Risa knew he hadn't been eavesdropping, Ashes just happened to have extremely good ears.

"Spot told me to meet him on the roof at midnight." Risa answered, still watching Spot laughing and joking with Uncles.

"Oh…" Ashes said slowly, and Risa could tell he knew something. She jerked herself away from staring at Spot and looked at Ashes.

"What was that thoughtful 'oh…' for?" She quizzed.

"Just… I think I might know what he wants to talk about."

"And that would be…"

"Now how would that be fun?" Ashes grinned. "I'll make you anticipate it a bit." He chuckled and wandered away towards his best friend.

Risa frowned, but was yanked out of her thoughts by a soft yank on her arm. She looked over to see Spits and Spooks. "We wanna play," they whined in unison, putting on their best 'cute' faces.

"Fine, fine," Risa laughed, then picked them up and carried them over to the gate. The two started climbing and jumping all over the fence as though it was the best toy in the world.

"I never had a good play place." Spot said as he walked over. "I used to play in my dad's butcher's shop. My best friend at five was an old man who worked with my father who they called 'Smelly Knickers'. I never got the name until I was way older."

Risa laughed. "The streets were like an entire playground for me and Clara. We would just run and jump down the streets, laughing and playing. I remember one summer when we became friend with a fruit vendor. Everyone called her Madeline, but she once told us that her real name was Esperanza and she was actually from Mexico. Everyone just sort of assumed she was French, but she wasn't. Not at all."

"I guess all kids have weird friends growing up," Spot said thoughtfully, looking out at the two boys in front of him.

"Do you think we'll be theirs?" Risa said, reading his mind.

Spot smiled. "Of course. They'll stand proud and say 'We knew Spot and Risa Conlon before they were famous."

"Spot and Risa Conlon?" Risa said, shocked. "You assume we'll be married?"

"Why of course!" Spot declared. "I have to make a decent woman out of you."

Risa smacked his arm and laughed. As the two sat there chatting and laughing innocently, they had no idea how right they were. There would be a day when those two young men would stand and say that they knew those two, and they would be proud, but it was for reasons that Spot and Risa had yet to predict. Reason's that surprised even the most clever of us.

I suppose life is like that. It's like a big forest, full of twists and turns. One minute you're walking down one path thinking 'wow, isn't this nice, it's sunny!' and the next second it's so dark you can barely see your hand in front of your face.

Dark fates sure do have a way of sneaking up on us.

---

**_A/N: _**_Ah, not the biggest fan of this chapter, and also, it took me a really long time to get it up. I've had it done for like 2 months, but the holidays, this stupid play I'm in, and my brother being on the computer nonstop kept me from updating. Review and all that, enjoy. I suppose it's shout out time...   
_

_**Midnight Flare**- everytime you speak I am reminded of Kevin alarmingly... it's actually becoming scary now. See, you wanted me to update soon. Obviously that didn't go well. I'm glad you are not a fan of anime, although I shall have to murder your sister. Sorry, but she's gotta go! _

_** Lucky**- I'm very sorry that you had a large paper due. I have an indepentdent book novel due in two days, I have yet to read the book. Feeling Sorry for Celia, if you feel like doing it for me! Actually, I have a big assignment due tomorrow that I have yet to do, and I really don't think I'm going to. Shit, I need a current event to. Man, I am so unprepared. _

_**Love97- **I love you. Honestly, you're amazing. Thank you for all the very nice things you said. About you and your best friend drifting... I have moved from best friend to best friend for the past 3 years, and my best friend for the majority of this year (2004, not the actual year) is so amazing, I'm glad I had to go through all those duds to find her. I hope I can do some sort of writing in college, I want to sell a book so I can get money to move to New Zealand... that would be bliss. You're sweet too, and honestly, I would marry your story if women and objects could be married._

_ **Dreamer- **Sweet, well, now that we're friends, I gotta tell you, that skirt makes you look fat. Haha, I kid, I kid! I can't see you, and I'm sure whatever you are wearing makes you look thin as a button. Maybe you need to gain a little weight, actually._

_ **Katherine- **Aww, thanks! You're awesome. Sorry for taking so long to update. Next time it'll go faster, I promise._

_**Blue- **Thanks so much, I love the people who actually give me criticism. I'm trying to work on cutting up my paragraphs, it's a major weakness I have. But I'll try and work on it harder, I really will. I don't like that the first chapter is just background info, but it's out of the way so that's good. As you said, now I can "dive in"._

**_Say No More- _**_You know I love you, I've emailed you and you've helped me sooo much! Thank you thank you thank you!_

_**Unknown Dreams-** Thanks a bunch. I updated late, so sorry, but keep on sending those faces!_

_**bitemytoesmrmoe- **You're brilliant. I wish I could think of awesome names like that._

_**Dippy Conlon- **You made my day. I was having an uber-shitty day when I recieved it, and it really cheered me up. Guys suck, don't they? Thanks to you, I have remembered to chance all numbers to words. I tend to forget that quite often. I'm a bit slow at times!_

_ THANKS SO MUCH TO EVERYONE WHO REVIEWED! KEEP ON REVIEWING, YOU ALL ROCK! Augh, I had a really bad day today, after a LONG play practice in which I did nothing because I'm not in it until the second paragraph when they introduce the LOVELY Princess Imogene. And it took 2 hours to do ONE PARAGRAPH! They're not even done yet, so I don't have to go tomorrow. That's good, but I won't get to write. Finals are next week, augh. I hate finals, I really do. _

_ I have to now go get my hair cut._

_ HEY! If anyone is a teenage parent, knows one and can help me with some questions, or lives in an apartment and can tell me things about the bills and stuff, PLEASE EMAIL ME! Stupid health project, I need to figure out the costs of things and I thought I should ask on here, just in case. Please Email me, _

_** THANKS AGAIN!**_


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